When Nature wants to drill a man,
And thrill a man,
And skill a man.
When Nature wants to mould a man To play the noblest part; When she yearns with all her heart To create so great and bold a man That all the world shall praise – Watch her method, watch her ways! How she ruthlessly perfects Whom she royally elects; How she hammers him and hurts him, And with mighty blows converts him Into trial shapes of clay which only Nature understands While his tortured heart is crying and he lifts beseeching hands! How she bends, but never breaks, When his good she undertakes. . . . How she uses whom she chooses And with every purpose fuses him, By every art induces him To try his splendour out – Nature knows what she's about.
When Nature wants to take a man, And shake a man, And wake a man; When Nature wants to make a man To do the Future's will; When she tries with all her skill And she yearns with all her soul To create him large and whole . . . With what cunning she prepares him! How she goads and never spares him, How she whets him, and she frets him And in poverty begets him . . . How she often disappoints Whom she sacredly anoints, With what wisdom she will hide him, Never minding what betide him Though his genius sob with slighting and his pride may not forget! Bids him struggle harder yet. Makes him lonely So that only God's high messages shall reach him So that she may surely teach him What the Hierarchy planned. Though he may not understand, Gives him passions to command. How remorselessly she spurs him With terrific ardour stirs him When she poignantly prefers him
When Nature wants to name a man And fame a man And tame a man; When Nature wants to shame a man To do his heavenly best . . . When she tries the highest test That she reckoning may bring When she wants a god or king! How she reins him and restrains him So his body scarce contains him While she fires him And inspires him!
Keeps him yearning, ever burning for a tantalizing goal – Lures and lacerates his soul. Sets a challenge for his spirit, Draws it higher when he's near it Makes a jungle, that he clear it; Makes a desert that he fear it And subdue it if he can – So doth Nature make a man. Then, to test his spirit's wrath Hurls a mountain in his path Puts a bitter choice before him
And relentlessly stands o'er him. "Climb, or perish I" so she says. . . . Watch her purpose, watch her ways!
Nature's plan is wondrous kind Could we understand her mind . . . Fools are they who call her blind. When his feet are torn and bleeding Yet his spirit mounts unheeding, All his higher powers speeding, Blazing newer paths and fine; When the force that is Divine Leaps to challenge every failure and his ardour still is sweet And love and hope are burning in the presence of defeat . . .
Lo, the crisis! Lo, the shout That must call the leader out. When the people need salvation Doth he come to lead the nation. . . . Then doth Nature show her plan When the world has found - a MAN!